Last But Not Least
by myhorserockyrocks
Summary: Shortly after getting married, Narcissa Malfoy spends a reflective night by the fire. Written for round eight of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition.


**A/N: Written for the Eighth Round of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter.**

**Team: Montrose Magpies**

**Position: Chaser One**

**Title: Last But Not Least**

**Genre: Family/Fantasy**

**Words: 1,022**

**Character: Narcissa Malfoy**

Narcissa Malfoy (née Black) rolled over on her bed with a sigh. This was the fourth sleepless nigh she'd had in a row, and all she wanted was to be able to get some sleep. But she couldn't. It had only been four days since she moved in to Malfoy Manor, but no matter how much Lucius tried to make her feel welcome, she still found that she couldn't sleep.

_It's stupid, really_, Narcissa thought as she crawled out of bed, pulled on her robe, and put slippers on her feet. _Here I am, twenty-two years old, and yet I can't even sleep in an unfamiliar house! _Narcissa shook her head at her own foolishness before walking downstairs into the Great Room of Malfoy Manor to sit by the fire.

Being only twenty-two, Narcissa had felt as though she was too young to get married. She had been told since she was two years old that she would one day be married and be the perfect pureblood house wife. However, until she was around sixteen she thought that she would be allowed to pick the man that she married. Bellatrix had gotten married to Rodolphus Lestrange that year, and that was when Narcissa realized it—arranged marriages were the normality for a pureblood family.

Two years later, Narcissa's other sister, Andromeda, had run away to get married to Muggle-born Ted Tonks. Narcissa had been forced to shun her along with the rest of the Black family because marrying a Muggle-born was viewed as an obscenity in pureblood society.

Narcissa was last, but not least. Quickly, she realized that being the youngest in a line of sisters could be a blessing and a curse. It seemed as though her parents, Cygnus Black III and Druella Rosier, were having a hard time finding her a husband. They looked for what seemed like a really long time until they found Lucius Malfoy, a wizard only a year older than Narcissa. Narcissa wasn't in a rush to leave the house, so she took her time getting to know Lucius before her parents eventually got fed up and forced her to marry him just four days previous. Now Narcissa was warming herself by the fire, thinking about many things.

_When I have children, I'm going to let them marry whomever they so desire_, she thought, nodding for emphasis, _whether it is a pureblood or not._ Now, Narcissa was sure that Lucius wouldn't agree with these thoughts, especially if they had a son, so Narcissa promised herself that she would never tell anyone what she had just thought.

She was the last but not least. She was the last of her sisters to get married, was the last of her sisters to graduate Hogwarts, and she was the last in a long line of Blacks to have an arranged marriage (or so she promised herself). However, Narcissa was certainly not least. She got the best grades in her family, married into the highest-regarded pureblood families of the wizarding world, and even had the nicest clothes.

Narcissa smiled at her thoughts while sitting by the fire. The embers were glowing a deep red, and the flames were licking the very edge of the fireplace as if they might jump out. The warm glow filled her soul, and Narcissa smiled as the scent of burning wood filled her nose. Before she moved in, Lucius had kept the fire going with magic, but upon her insistence he changed it to a wood-burning fireplace to make her happy. Narcissa loved the smell of burning wood, and would do nearly anything to have this smell fill her nose at all parts of the day, everyday. She supposed having a fireplace like this was just one of the benefits of being a part of one of the wealthiest wizard families in Britain.

Rare were these moments—moments of quiet in the rather large house. Narcissa quite liked Malfoy Manor like this—it reminded her of home. During the day, the house acted as a meeting point for nearly every pureblood in the entire world, or at least that's how Narcissa viewed it. Lucius was constantly throwing elegant balls or sophisticated dinner parties, and Narcissa was tiring from them although it was only her fourth day in the house. It seemed as though Lucius had friends over every night to discuss work, the politics of the Ministry, or simply to relax after a hard week.

Narcissa looked up as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Sure enough, Lucius Malfoy was making his presence known. He frowned when he saw Narcissa sitting there, and then said, "I was wondering where you had gone. Come back to bed."

Narcissa paused as if processing the information. Knowing Lucius, that wasn't an invitation—it was a command. Narcissa had realized in the past four days that pureblood wives were supposed to be inferior to their husbands in all things. Therefore, to avoid an argument and just because she felt as though she needed to go to bed, Narcissa followed Lucius upstairs, where he led her to their bedroom. He crawled into bed and motioned for her to do the same, so she did.

Narcissa then lay, listening to her husband's steady breathing. It appeared that he had fallen asleep just moments after lying back down, and she felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips. As opposed to her sisters, Narcissa truly felt as though she lucked out with her husband. Bellatrix's husband Rodolphus was cruel and abusive, though Narcissa could tell that Bellatrix was oblivious to what he was doing. Andromeda's husband, Ted, was a disgusting mudblood that no one in Narcissa's family wanted to associate with.

Narcissa frowned. She couldn't be having these thoughts! She was supposed to care about her sisters. Married life was already bending her thoughts to the biased views of her husband, which were even more biased the views of her parents. That was okay with Narcissa, seeing as she was tired of being last in line. But she had to remember one thing.

She was last, but not least.


End file.
